As Gerard and Andy walked together they carried a conversation. "Ugh, I just - God - I'm just so - I don't know what to do?" Gerard complained.

"Be calm and try not to go insane." Andy said, trying to calm Gerard.

Gerard chuckled, "It's funny that you're saying that to an artist."

Andy laughed a little, "Exactly." The artist gave Andy a weird look and the art student began to speak, "Artists were once sane but then they were given these awesome super artistic powers and they were never sane again."

The older man nodded. "Guess what I am." He smiled.

"Crazy!" The art student exclaimed.

"That too but mostly a starving fag artist." He looked down at his small friend and she gave him the look of 'bitch-you-better-take-that-back' and the artist responded, "The word 'fag' sounds pretty funny when it rolls off my tongue." He chuckled a little. "But yeah, I'm a starving fag artist."

She smiled a little and responded, "Then get some food, loca." Emphasizing the Spanish word loca.

The artist laughed and so did she, they walked a little further. "I'm getting some," Andy cocked an eyebrow, as if she didn't believe the words spewing out of the young artist's, "Noodles." He smirked as they both approached his house.

"Take out?" She asked.

"Mhmm." He hummed.

"Well invite me into your home. kid" The art student walked in front of the english student and entered through the apartment building's entrance.

"I was going to, kid." He replied, mocking the short uni student.

---

As for the teenage boy, he was at school drawing in his sketchbook. At the edge of his seat, he was ready to go back his room and create more art. The bell was going to ring within five minutes and the rest of his classmates were on the edges of their seats as well.

Frank didn't notice it but he was drawing the cute boy that sat in the front of the room. He was a junior like him but they never had a simple conversation. Only because Frank was sort of a anti-social kid and everyone thought he was weird for not talking a lot. Also, the cute boy was a social butterfly and basically talked to everyone in the whole school. Which lead the lonely teenager to the assumption that everyone told the cute boy to stay away from Frank. Whether it would be in a stupid rumor or people just making him stay away from the lonesome boy.

Five minutes passed and the bell rang throughout every high school student and teachers' ears. The teenagers all left the room quickly and the teenager drawing in his sketchbook was the last to leave. He gathered his supplies, two pencils, an eraser, and-obviously-his sketchbook, and left.

As he left the campus he listened to the band Circle Jerks. Punk bands-and music generally-were always Frank's "go-to" when he was feeling an artistic idea come forth but he couldn't do anything. Either because he knew he couldn't do it or he was too busy walking home from school, vice versa.

"Ay Iero!" A voice rung through the teenager's ears. He glanced at where the voice came from and locked eyes with someone unknown to the teenager. But, apparently, this kid knew the aspiring artist.

"Fag artist!" Another voice yelled, this time it was very familiar. The fag artist took another glance and saw the kid who was picking on him earlier that day. The boy he technically flirted with. The teenager smirked and waved.

"I pity you." Frank muttered under his breath.

He ignored the yelling from behind him by turning the volume to his music. And then he reached down his pocket feeling for his pack of cancer sticks and lighter. Once he felt the familiar objects he took them into his hands. The cigarette in one and his favorite lighter in the next. The teenager lit one up and he suddenly felt release. He wasn't the loner teenage boy who sat in the seat farthest from the front of the room, he was now an artist longing for love and everything that he desired.

---

Artist have this need to want. They want everything, to be more specific-they want everything they desire. If they were to fall in love, they'd want the thing they'd fallen for. Or if an artist were to see a work of art and they were to see it first, they'd want it more than the other person who saw it next. Artist are like this either because they are really passionate about art or-possibly and-they just want everything.

---

The two uni students sat in the artist's apartment watching a movie, they don't recall what it was called but it seemed nice. They ate their take out, which was only noodles, and talked more about artists and how quote on quote 'Fucked up they were'. The only fucked up thing Gerard could make out of the artists they talked about was Van Gogh. He cut his ear off and sent it to his lover, sure he could see how some kind of romantic thing but I thought it was kind of weird and fucked up.

"So you know that one kid, the one who was called the 'fag artist'? Or the one who drew you that?" Andy asked, as she pointed to the paper in Gerard's hands as he stared at such quality there was in the little 12 in x 8 in sketchbook paper.

"Yeah." He answered.

"He was cute and I think we should see him again." The woman insisted.

"Let's not." The man looked at her, knowing that it would be impossible to meet the teen ever again in this place.

"Your loss." She said before taking a sip of her cold beer.

"Excuse me but I'm not gay. I'm in a relationship, too." The artist looked at his best friend.

"Right," She scoffed before taking another sip, "because getting drunk and having sex right after is a relationship."

"Fuck off, Andy."

"You know it's true. She only wants you for sex. It's obvious. You look at her like she's yours but you don't get that she doesn't look at you like that. She's drunk and high whenever you're in bed together."

"Maybe I just want her so badly."

"Well of course you do. A bunch of other straight guys do too. I mean she's been talking about getting with this guy. Start dating."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." Gerard cringed at the thought of how Lindsey used him. He should've listened to his little brother.

The two artists went back to talking about the 'fag artist' and his art. Then they moved onto cleaning up after themselves and turning the movie off. The art student decided to stay the night and the artist didn't mind. He wasn't going let her go home at this hour anyways.

"You know that thing about artists?" Andy began to say as they listened to music and stargazed while drinking coffee.

"What thing?" He questioned, not taking his eyes off the stars.

"That thing where artists want everything they desire?" Andy asked, looking at the stars.

"Oh...yeah." He answered.

"Do you desire Lindsey?" She asked, now looking at him.

Gerard's eyes widened but then went back to a normal look once he looked at the younger student, "No, I just want her. Not to sound rude but I don't desire her, I used to in the beginning though. But like two months ago it all seemed normal to be screwing her and then waking up the next morning to her gone."

"Oh. Then what do you desire? What do you want?" Andy asked, looking back at the sky.

"This talk isn't meant for you." Gerard answered and took a sip of coffee, shifting on his heels and looked at the sky while doing so.

"Right, only for a student of yours." She commented, taking a sip of her own coffee.

"Mhmm." The artist hummed, still drinking from his coffee cup.

The two began looking at the sky again, the younger student stayed quiet for the rest of the night and the older one did as well. But his mind wasn't blank like the naive student but full of thoughts. He didn't like it so he decided to maybe sleep. He tried.

As for the young teen, Frank, he was at home and contemplating whether he should go outside and take a walk or just do more art. He didn't do art that night, well he tried to but he wasn't inspired. So being the crazy teenage artist he was, he walked out his front door. Ignoring his drunk mom's boyfriend screams. The young artist never saw that man as someone to boss him around, he only saw his mother to do that.

The boy felt blank, he guessed it was his depression. The artist felt the same way as well. He needed a smoke and a walk. He notified Andy that he was going to get a pack of cigs and will be back in thirty. The two left there homes and began their journey.

Notes

This story has like a little bit of what I'm going through and a little bit of like some true events...like I have a friend named Breonna and like I call her Andy...and we had this conversation about artists and how they are...like she thinks I'm insane because I'm an artist and I had to agree because c'mon...artists.

Anyways..tell me how I'm doing. rate. subscribe. comment

I'll most likely update tomorrow morning - well morning for me - I don't know, time zones ya know?

XO weenie